“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the minister concluded. He stepped back and added, “You may kiss your bride.”
Delia’s heart leapt into her throat. She’d forgotten about this part.Howhad she forgotten about this part? Heaven knew she’d attended the wedding of nearly every girl she’d grown up with.
Ever so gently, Mr. Foster lifted his hands to her arms and drew her toward him until she could feel his breath on her face when he looked down at her.
She didn’t know if she could do this.
Shehadto do this.
And a tiny part of her couldn’t wait.
Delia tilted her head up and squeezed her eyes shut. The seconds thudded into what felt like hours until finally his lips brushed hers.
She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t do anything except stand there and feel. And wish that it would never end.
Thunk.Thunk.Thunk.
With a barely suppressed sigh, Mr. Foster drew away from her and turned to eye his daughter, who had gone back to kicking the pew in front of her.
As Delia figured out how to breathe again, she found herself smiling and accepting words of congratulations from everyonein attendance. Mr. Foster introduced the couple in attendance as Liam Hannan, who owned the hotel he worked for, and Mr. Hannan’s wife, Tilly.
“It’s wonderful to meet you,” Tilly said. “We’re both so happy for Max. He’s only been in town for a few months, but we feel as if he and Anna are family.” She gave a sidelong glance at Anna, who was leaning against the wall nearby, scuffing the toe of her shoe along the floor. “You’re doing a good thing for that little girl. She needs a mother.”
Delia nodded, uncertain what to say about the girl she hadn’t even really met yet. Everyone seemed to be in agreement that Anna needed mothering, and the weight of that expectation was growing heavier the longer Delia went without speaking to the girl “Thank you so much for coming,” she said instead of addressing anything about Anna.
“Of course.” Tilly took Mr. Hannan’s hand. “If you need anything, just let me know. And please come by for a visit. This town felt so overwhelming to me when I first arrived, and getting to know someone helped me. Although I suppose if you’re from New York, Crest Stone must feel downright quaint.” She laughed.
Delia smiled. “I’d love someone to visit. Thank you.”
Mr. Foster said his goodbyes and thanked the minister and his wife. As they prepared to walk to the door of the church, Mr. Foster frowned and glanced around.
“Have you seen Anna?” he asked.
Delia turned to where the girl had been leaning against the wall not just a few minutes earlier. But the space was now vacant. “She was right there.”
“Hmm.” He frowned as he gave the church one last sweep with his eyes. “She’ll be home for supper. That’s something I can always count on. For someone so small, she’s eternally hungry.”
He offered her an arm, and Delia took it, but the entire situation sat oddly with her. “Does she do this often?” she asked as they stepped outside.
“Run off?”
Delia nodded.
“Unfortunately, yes.” He steered her around a pair of men who were hoisting crates into a wagon.
“And she doesn’t tell you where she’s going?”
His jaw tightened, and Delia hesitated to say more. It was clear she’d happened upon a sensitive topic. The last thing she wanted was for her new husband to think she was passing judgment on his skills as a father—especially when she’d never had a child herself. It was safer to steer the conversation in a more upbeat direction. “Well, I’m looking forward to actually meeting her.”
That brought a smile to Mr. Foster’s face. He’d sent Mrs. Canton to bring her to the church earlier, while he looked for Anna. Delia hadn’t had an opportunity to say as much as hello to the girl.
“Miss Sullivan at the hotel offered to send over a supper for us,” Mr. Foster said as he held open the door to the house for her. “If you write up a list of what you need, I’ll accompany you to the general store tomorrow.”
“Of course,” Delia said, thankful for perhaps the first time for all of the hours she’d spent chatting and learning from their cook at home. She might not be the most talented in the kitchen, but her skills exceeded most of the other girls she’d known growing up. She’d ensure they wouldn’t starve, at least. “And that’s very nice of Miss Sullivan. Please give her my thanks.”
Delia tucked the name away in the back of her mind. Perhaps this Miss Sullivan could be a potential love interest for Mr. Foster when the time came for Delia to return to New York. She’d have to meet the lady and find out for herself.
“I ought to change, and then I’ll set about making that list,” she said.
